


Ghosts That We Knew

by bashert



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-20 17:09:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1518563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bashert/pseuds/bashert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Maggie wasn’t sure of Jerry’s motivations here; he had lost the lawsuit, he was most likely broke, and definitely unemployed and something had clearly snapped inside of him, but she was certain that Will was wrong. Jerry Dantana didn’t want Will, he wanted MacKenzie.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Jerry Dantana has a score to settle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So give me hope in the darkness

**Author's Note:**

> I warned you this was going to happen. It's pretty melodramatic. This partly came out of writing the end of _Holocene_ when Charlie asks Will if he's afraid of Dantana exacting revenge, and then my mind got stuck on the idea and it wouldn't go away. If you hate it, do me a favor and don't tell me. I'm sorry, I think. The title is from the Mumford and Sons song. I really am sorry. (Also, fun fact! My draft was saved under the title "Jerry's Revenge." Part of me wanted to keep that title. Part of me still does.)

It was Maggie who first realized it was Jerry Dantana striding across the newsroom heading straight for MacKenzie’s office. Jerry, who by orders of both ACN and by the courts was not supposed to step foot inside the _building_ let alone the offices of News Night, looked determined and livid as he stalked towards Mac’s door.

How in the fuck had he gotten in here? Maggie knew that they had ramped up security in the aftermath of Genoa. Both Will and Mac had received death threats, and while none were considered to be credible (and _what_ , Maggie wanted to know, made the difference between a credible and non-credible death threat. If someone took the time and risk to tell someone that they wanted them dead, Maggie figured that should be taken fucking seriously), Charlie had decided that they needed to beef up security for the building. Will had demanded that a person be put on Mac, and Mac had rolled her eyes.

“ _Non_ credible,” she had reminded Will. “Besides, you are also receiving threats. By that logic, shouldn’t _you_ also have a bodyguard?” Will had waved away her concern, but still remained adamant that Lonny be brought back to throw himself in front of a bullet for MacKenzie. It _had_ seemed slightly ridiculous at the time, although Maggie couldn’t help but regret that they hadn’t listened to Will. But it hadn’t been the known threats that they had to worry about, it was _this_. The unexpected. The unannounced. Jerry Dantana, sore loser, storming into the newsroom and heading straight for MacKenzie.

Shit, heading straight for _MacKenzie_. He hadn’t even spared a glance around the nearly empty newsroom. There was that small miracle. A bunch of people had gone out for lunch, and the rest were holed up with Will in the conference room working on a developing story. But Mac was there. She was in her office, Maggie knew that for certain because Sloan had tried to get her to go to lunch and Mac had too much going on to take the time. Sloan promised to bring her back something, how long ago was that? Shit, Maggie didn’t know. She didn’t know anything, and she sure as shit didn’t know what to do.

Maggie jumped out of her seat, not really sure of her next move, but knowing that she had to do something and ignoring the urge to vomit that was overwhelming. (This wasn’t Uganda, it _wasn’t_ , but fuck. Did Dantana have a gun? Maggie wasn’t sure. _Fuck_ ).

She started towards Mac’s office when Will appeared out of the conference room, and hissed at him.

“Will!” There was an underlying tone of panic in her voice that made Will stop and his eyes widen and she gestured wildly to MacKenzie’s office. “Jerry! He’s here! He’s in Mac’s office!” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Will was propelling himself towards where Maggie had pointed, but before he had gotten very far, Mac’s door flew open and she appeared, Jerry right behind her, a grim look on her face and, Maggie sucked in a breath, a gun pointed at her back (He did have a gun, he _did_ , and shit, shit, _shit_ ).  Will moved forward, almost instinctively, until Mac’s voice, thin and tight, made him freeze.

“Will, don’t,” she said.

“Don’t,” Jerry repeated, his voice flat and hard.

“It’s me you want,” Will told Jerry. “It’s me. You want me. Leave her alone. You want me.” Maggie could hear the desperation in Will’s tone. _You want me_. Maggie wasn’t sure of Jerry’s motivations here; he had lost the lawsuit, he was most likely broke, and definitely unemployed and something had clearly snapped inside of him, but she was certain that Will was wrong. Jerry Dantana didn’t want Will, he wanted MacKenzie. Mac had figured out the shot clock. Mac had realized it was because of Jerry that they had fucked up Genoa. Mac had fired him.

“No,” Dantana shook his head. “No, it’s _her_.” Maggie saw Jim out of the corner of her eye, approaching Mac and Jerry from the side. He was creeping closer to the two of them, and was nearly in arm’s reach when Jerry wheeled around, grabbing Mac’s arm and pulling her back into her doorway. “Stay fucking put, Harper.” Jim halted, raising his hands up in surrender.

“Come on, Jerry,” Jim said. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Don’t I?” Jerry shot back, a grin on his face. He looked deranged and Mac, standing in front of him still, the gun digging into her back, looked calmer than Maggie felt. Will, on the other hand, looked fucking terrified. Maggie swallowed the bile that was creeping up the back of the throat. She wanted to drop to her knees and cry, but she straightened herself up, bit back the panic.

“What do you want?” Will asked. “Is it money? How much money? I’ll give it to you, okay? How much do you want?” Mac closed her eyes, and Jerry gave a bitter laugh that Maggie felt reverberate in her bones. (It wasn’t money, Maggie knew that instinctively. Jerry had lost the lawsuit, and wouldn’t be getting one red dime out of ACN, but this was about more than money. That was what had Maggie terrified. That was what chilled her to the bone.)

“Fuck you, McAvoy,” Jerry said, and he tugged Mac back into her office, her door closing behind them.

* * *

_Fuck._

That was the only word echoing in Will’s head when the door closed behind Jerry Dantana and his fiancee.

The air seemed to be sucked out of the room, and then came rushing back in as Neal tumbled out of the conference room behind Will and threw a chair underneath Will as his legs finally gave out underneath him.

“Tess is calling the police,” Neal reported quietly. Will didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. He had no idea what Dantana’s end game was here. If he just wanted to kill her, wouldn’t he have just killed her the moment he stepped inside her office? ( _No, no, not Mac_ ) Will felt dizzy and sick. He had always been a glass is half empty kind of guy, the kind of guy who thinks of the very worst case scenarios, and he couldn’t help but run through all of the things that could be happening behind that closed door. MacKenzie was alone with him in her office, alone with that lunatic with a gun and a grudge. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

Get it together, he instructed himself. What the fuck did he do now? Mac would know what to do. Mac was always better in a crisis than he had ever been, and now she was stuck behind that closed door with Dantana and a gun. Fuck.

Will looked around the newsroom. Everyone was frozen, Maggie still standing by her desk, Jim still a few feet from Mac’s office door, twin looks of fear and disbelief on their faces. Will took a deep breath. He couldn’t panic. He couldn’t. That would help no one. He had to work with the facts. He was good with facts.

Fact: Dantana had a gun and had somehow gotten through security.  Fact: there was a group of people that Will was responsible for standing frozen in fear in the conference room. And while Dantana had Mac ( _no, no, not Mac_ ), the silver lining to that was that his attention was diverted.

“Get everyone else out while you can,” he instructed to Neal. “Take the stairs, get the fuck out. Call Charlie. Alert security. Go. Now.”

“I can’t leave…”Neal started, and Will shook his head.

“ _Now_ ,” Will repeated. Neal hesitated and then finally nodded, slipping back towards the conference room. Jim had finally thawed, moving towards Maggie. Will saw Jim say something to Maggie which caused her to shake her head. Will climbed to shaky legs, and went to where Jim and Maggie were huddled together.

“Both of you get out,” Will said. Dantana didn’t need to have any more hostages than he already had. Will had to think about this logically.

“No,” Jim replied, defiantly. Will didn’t have time to argue with Jim. God only knew what Dantana was doing in there, and Will wanted as many people out of the office as possible.  There wasn’t a question as to whether or not he was staying. He sure as fuck wasn’t going anywhere. Not with Mac still in there ( _no, no, not Mac_ ).

“Jim,” Will warned.

“I’m not leaving MacKenzie with a gun to her head,” Jim hissed. There was a silent showdown between the two of them for a moment, and then Will sighed.

“Maggie, get out of here,” sensing that fighting Jim on this was pointless, Will turned his attention to Maggie. She was pale, and her hands were twisted together, but she bit her lip and shook her head. Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw Neal silently moving the rest of the staff towards the staircase. “This is not a fucking game, Maggie. This is not the time to be a martyr or a hero.” As Maggie was opening her mouth to argue, Mac’s door flew open and Dantana appeared, dragging Mac with him. Will’s heart stopped.

When she had first appeared with Dantana, Will’s brain had taken a moment to recognize the object pushed into her back as a gun, but Mac had appeared calm and in control and it had been enough to stop Will from absolutely freaking the fuck out. Now? _Now_ she looked terrified. He wasn’t sure what had happened in the few minutes that she was alone in there with Dantana, but she was visibly shaken, and, Will’s hands clenched into fists beside him, her lip was swelling and bleeding slightly. Dantana had hit her. That fucker had _hit_ her. Will felt anger well up inside of him, and he welcomed it. It was better than feeling paralyzing fear. Anger he could work with. Anger was a feeling he was familiar with.

“Get in here,” Dantana said, and it wasn’t clear which of the three he was speaking to. Will moved closer to Mac. He just wanted to touch her. He just wanted to make sure she was okay. (Which was ridiculous, because of course she wasn’t fucking okay. Her face had settled into a stony mask, and she was scared, he knew her well enough to know that, but she was also standing straight, her shoulders squared, ready for battle.) He noticed that both Maggie and Jim were also walking towards Mac’s office, and he wished that they had just fucking listened to him when he had told them to get out. It was too late for that now. Will brushed his hand along Mac’s dangling hand when he passed, Jerry’s grip still tight on her arm. Dantana closed the door behind Jim, and gestured to the the wall.

“Sit,” he instructed, holding onto Mac. Will dropped to the floor, his knees groaning, and Jim and Maggie sat next to him.

“What do you want?” Will repeated. Mac was silent, her bottom lip, swollen and red, being worried between her teeth, wincing as Jerry dug his fingers into her arm.

“I don’t…” Dantana started. “I don’t…” Jerry suddenly pushed Mac away from him, and she tripped and fell forward, Will reaching out and grabbing her, pulling her down to the floor next to him, and feeling relief wash over him. He wrapped an arm around her. At least she was next to him. At least there was that. Dantana would now have to get through Will if he wanted MacKenzie. “I’m not this kind of guy. I’m not…Everything would have been fine. It would have been fine, except for her.” He pointed his gun at Mac who flinched next to Will, and Will tightened his grip on her. “It would have been fine.”

“How much do you want? You can get some money and get out of here. How much?” Will tried again. “You can leave. I’ll write you a check and you can leave. You can just leave.”  Dantana ignored him, stalking over to Mac’s office door and glancing into the newsroom, running a frustrated hand over his face.

“He doesn’t want money,” Mac spoke up, her voice low. She shifted so that she could look up at Will. “That’s not...it’s not about money.”

If it wasn’t about money, Will thought, they were fucked. 


	2. That I will see the light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, you guys are awesome. Also? I meant to have this up this weekend, but real life interfered and this chapter, for whatever reason, was really difficult to write. So. I hope it lives up to expectations. And I'm going to go hide in a corner for awhile.

It had already been a long morning, and MacKenzie was staring down a pile of work on her desk. Sloan had been by to ask if she wanted to to go lunch, and Mac had regretfully declined. The pile of work on her desk was unfortunately not going to do itself. Will was working on a developing story with a group of people, already holed up in the conference room, and Mac had a feeling that the two of them were going to be spending another late night in the office (the only upside to staying late was generally she moved her work to Will’s office, both of them on his couch, her feet in his lap as he absentmindedly gave her a foot massage. Will gave the _best_ foot massages). Her head was down and she was concentrated on what she was reading when she heard her door open. Figuring it had to be one of three people: Will, Charlie, or Sloan (everyone else had fucking manners and would _knock_ first before just letting themselves in), she had held up a finger so that she could finish reading the paragraph when a hand slammed down on her desk and made her startle.

It was _not_ Will, Charlie, or Sloan (and Jesus, how much she wished it _had_ been). It was Jerry Fucking Dantana, and she wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing in her office, but she knew enough to know that it couldn’t be good.

“Jerry,” she said, her tone calm and measured. “What are you doing here?”

“Fuck you, MacKenzie,” Jerry spat. Her heart sank when she spied the gun. Well, fuck.

“Jerry,” she tried again. “What do you want?” He laughed, a bitter, short laugh that made Mac’s skin crawl.

“I hear you’re engaged,” Jerry sneered, with a wide, crazed smile. “Congratulations! Things just keep coming up roses for MacKenzie McHale.”

“Jerry, I don’t know what you...” she started and Jerry slammed his hands down on her desk again.

“Don’t!” He instructed, “Is your _fiancé_ ,” there was so much hatred dripping from the word that it made Mac shudder, “around?”

“You don’t want him,” Mac said immediately.

“Don’t tell me what I want,” Jerry’s voice was low. “Let’s go get him.” Mac didn’t move and Jerry’s eyes narrowed. “ _Now_.” Mac stood on unsteady legs and Jerry reached for her arm to tug her out from behind her desk. _Stay calm_ , she reminded herself. _Don’t panic_. He pulled her towards her office door, jamming the gun into her back, throwing the door open, and stepping out into the newsroom. Will was already halfway across the room, his jaw set firm and a fierce look on his face when Jerry dug the gun into her back.

“Will, don’t,” her words stopped him from coming any farther. _Get out of here_ , she thought. _Please Will, just get out of here_.

“Don’t,” Jerry repeated from behind her, his voice emotionless. _My God, he’s lost his fucking mind._

“It’s me you want,” Will tried. “It’s me. You want me. Leave her alone. You want me.” _Oh Will._ He was wrong. Dantana had come straight to _her_ office. Mac might be unsure of many things, but that much she was sure of. Dantana had come for _her._ He wasn’t there for Will. He wasn’t there for the rest of her team. At least there was that. She could hold onto that.

Will looked terrified, standing frozen in shock and horror, but Mac could see Jim creeping towards her and Dantana. _Don’t,_ she silently warned him, _don’t be a hero, Jim_. Maggie was there too, _oh God, Maggie_ , Maggie didn’t need this. Why couldn’t Maggie have been at lunch with the rest of them?

“What do you want?” Will asked. “Is it money? How much money? I’ll give it to you, okay? How much do you want?” It wasn’t money, Mac knew that. She closed her eyes. _Oh Will._

“Fuck you, McAvoy,” Dantana said, tugging Mac back into the office and letting the door close behind them. He let go of her arm as soon as the door was shut, and pushed her towards her desk. Will needed to get out. While Jerry had her in the office. Will and Maggie and Jim and all the others still in the conference room. They needed to get out. They needed to get out while they could.

Will wouldn’t. He was a stubborn asshole, and he would stay. _Idiot_ , Mac couldn’t help the rush of affection mingled with annoyance that washed over her. But Jim and Maggie. Will would get them out. He had to.

“Jerry, what do you want? It’s not money, I know that. You don’t want money. What do you want?” If he wanted her dead, why hadn’t he just killed her? He could have shot her the moment he walked into her office. He could have shot her in front of Will (And Jesus, Will would never survive that. His guilt and grief would eat him alive).

“You were wrong,” Jerry’s jaw tightened.  “About Genoa. It _happened_. I did what I did because it happened. I know it did. I _know_ it.”

“What do you want, Jerry?” Mac could feel irritation bubbling inside of her, overriding her fear. (And _good God_ , she was afraid. So much so that it was all she could to stop from weeping. But if he was going to kill her, she’d rather he do it in here away from Will. She could do that much for him. If she couldn’t save herself, she could make sure he didn’t have to see. It wasn’t much, but it was _something_.)

“Stop, I don’t...stop,” Jerry shook his head.

“Are you going to kill me? Did you come here to kill me?” Mac demanded.

“I said stop!” He backhanded her, blindsiding her for a moment. She was stunned, stumbling back towards the desk.

 _He’s going to kill me_ , Mac decided. She had goaded him, done it willingly, tried to push him into some sort of action, but it had never seemed like a real possibility until that moment. He hadn’t planned on coming in here and killing her, because he didn’t have a _plan_. That didn’t mean he _wouldn’t_. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t snap and shoot her and Will and whoever else was left in the office.

 _Please, please, please Will, just get out. Get out. Please, God, please_.

* * *

Charlie was in his office when the phone rang and Neal Sampat’s frantic voice came across the line.

“Jerry Dantana. He has Mac and Will, and Jim and Maggie, I think. But he’s in Mac’s office. He’s in her office. He has a gun.” It took Charlie a moment to decipher, sift through the disjointed phrases, wanting desperately to believe he had it wrong, that he wasn’t understanding Neal.

“Calm down, son, where are you?”

“In the stairwells, we’re heading down to the lobby,” Neal reported.

“Get out of the building, I’ll alert security,” Charlie instructed. He hung up with Neal and took a deep breath, steadying himself. He couldn’t let himself worry about Will and Mac. Charlie couldn’t do anything at the moment to help them. What he could do was get everyone else out. He called down to security, briefing them on the situation, telling them what he knew (which was so frustratingly little. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ). They had protocols in place for this kind of thing, lock down the elevator, lock the door to the floor where the shooter was on (and _goddamnit_ , it was _News Night’s_ floor. It was Mac. It was Will), get everyone they could out of the building.

Security assured them they were calling the police, calling for a hostage negotiator (oh for fuck’s sake. They were _hostages_. The word made it real in a way that it hadn’t been before), and Charlie picked up the phone to call Leona. She answered on the third ring and he sighed before saying anything.

“What’s happened, Charlie?” Leona asked.

“It’s Jerry Dantana,” Charlie said. “I don’t know much, I don’t know fucking anything, but he’s here. He’s in the building with a gun. He’s in MacKenzie’s office with a gun.”

“Sweet mother of God,” Leona breathed. “Are they okay?”

“ _I don’t fucking know anything_ ,” Charlie raged. Leona was quiet for a moment, Charlie’s heavy breathing the only sound coming down the line.

“You need to get out of the building, Skinner,” Leona instructed softly.

“I know.”

“Now, old man,” Leona told him.

“I _know_ ,” Charlie repeated.

“We’ll get them out,” Leona assured him. It was Charlie’s turn to be quiet.  “We will.”

“Yeah,” Charlie finally said, “I’ll see you downstairs.” And he hung up the phone, letting himself take a moment to tip his head back and close his eyes. Will. Mac. Maggie. Jim. Jesus.

Genoa was the gift that just kept on fucking giving.

* * *

It was silent in Mac’s office. Will kept his grip tight around Mac’s shoulders, and on the other side of him, Maggie was trembling. Mac hadn’t said anything else since she had told Will Jerry wasn’t there for money (and Will had known that. On an intellectual level, Will had _known_ it wasn’t about money for Jerry Dantana. But money was easy. Money he could do. He could write a check and send Dantana on his merry way. Money was something that could be fixed, and Will desperately needed to fix this. Desperately needed to get Mac out of there. If it wasn’t about money, then what the fuck did they do? How the fuck were they supposed to reason with Dantana like this?), but she had inched closer to him, moved as close as she could get without practically climbing into his lap (and he wouldn’t have stopped her if she had. He wanted to pull her into his arms all the way and bury his face in her hair and pretend for at least a moment that they weren’t here, in this office, with Dantana and a gun).

Jerry was pacing in front of the door, his head down and his arms crossed.

“You should have gotten out of here when you could,” Mac spoke up softly. Will didn’t answer, just dropped a kiss into her hair. Like there was any chance in hell of him leaving her behind. “I mean it, Will. You could have gotten out with the rest of them.”

“You’re fucking insane if you think for one minute I would have just left you alone here with him,” Will snorted. He glanced up at Dantana, but Jerry wasn’t paying any attention to the other four occupants of the room.

“Well, _you_ should have gotten out then,” Mac hissed at Jim on her other side, poking him hard.

“What Will said,” Jim muttered. “You’re fucking insane if you think I would have left you. We’ve been through worse before. We got through it then, and we’ll get through this.” Will wasn’t sure that was true. He knew that Mac and Jim had been through things, awful, terrible things, but he wasn’t sure if it got much worse than this.

“Optimism has never been your strong suit, Harper,” Mac said, but gave him a small, grateful smile.

“What did he say to you? What does he want?” Will asked, and Mac shrugged.

“I don’t think he knows what he wants,” Mac whispered.

“That’s fucking great,” Maggie murmured. Her knees were pulled up against her chest and she rested her cheek against the top of her right knee, her face turned towards Will.

Mac’s office phone rang, and Dantana halted his frenetic movements, spinning around to face her desk.

“Who is that?” He asked, his eyes darting from the four on the floor to the phone. _He’s fucking insane_ , Will thought. _We’re_ _fucking doomed_.

“I don’t know,” Mac said gently, she was infuriatingly calm.

“Answer it,” Jerry demanded. He pointed the gun at Mac, and Will anchored his arms around her shoulder, keeping her pinned to the ground. “Answer it, damn it.”

“I’ll answer it,” Will and Jim both offered simultaneously and Jerry shook his head.

“It’s okay, Will, it’s okay,” Mac soothed, extracting herself from his grip and climbing to her feet. Will could see her hand shake as she reached for the phone, heard the tremor in her voice as she answered. He closed his eyes. They were so fucking screwed. Dantana was out of control. He had no idea what he was doing, or what he wanted. The police would have no negotiating power, because Dantana was all over the place. He wanted something that MacKenzie couldn’t give to him, he wanted her to go back in time, believe him about Genoa, stand by his story, a story he _had_ to know was bullshit. He wanted Genoa to have happened, just like he said, for him to have righteous victory.

And how the fuck was anyone supposed to give him that?

They could offer him money, they could offer him his job back, they could offer him all the material goods they could, but he wouldn’t want any of them.

He wanted his pound of flesh.

And what Will was the most afraid of was not that Jerry would kill him, or Maggie, or Jim, because he didn’t think he _would_. He was most afraid for MacKenzie. Mac thought it was stupid and brave that he stayed behind, that they all stayed behind, for her, but Will knew, with a certainty that he felt deep in his bones, that he and Maggie and Jim weren’t in nearly the same amount of danger that Mac was in.

But if Jerry Dantana tried to put a bullet in MacKenzie, he’d have to get through Will first.

Will was certain of _that_ , too.

 


	3. Cause oh that gave me such a fright

“Charlie!” Sloan spotted her boss on his phone standing in the crowd outside of the building. She had gotten back from lunch with Don to find security blocking the entrances and a police barricade going up.

“What the fuck?” Don muttered, and Sloan glanced around trying to find someone that she knew to figure out what the hell was going on.

“There’s Charlie!” She cried, and tugged on Don’s hand as they wove their way through the ever growing crowd to get to him. Charlie looked up and gave Sloan a small nod as he finished his conversation.

“Charlie, what in the hell is going on?” Don asked. Charlie sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“I think it’s important that no one panic,” he started.

“That’s the _shittest_ way to start,” Sloan accused. “Now I know that I _should_ be panicking. What the fuck is going on?”

“Jerry Dantana came in with a gun,” Charlie explained. Sloan gasped and grabbed for Don’s hand. “He took MacKenzie hostage in her office, and according to Neal, Will, Jim, and Maggie refused to leave. He has all four in her office.” For the most part, them staying with Mac didn’t surprise Don. He liked to think that he wouldn’t have left Mac either. That he would have stayed, braved Jerry Dantana and his anger, that he would have swallowed his fear and stuck by her side. Will staying was a given. Don could only imagine the scene had someone tried to make Will leave that building without Mac.

And yeah, Jim would stay. Jim was loyal to MacKenzie to a fault. He had stuck with her through war zones, carried her bleeding body through a religious protest (Sloan had been the one to tell Don the details about that. Don wasn’t sure if Will knew all the details, knew what had happened to MacKenzie over there. Knew that Will already owed Jim more than he couldn’t ever possibly repay). No, Jim wasn’t leaving Mac behind.

Maggie, though. Don wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not by Maggie staying. She was a lot stronger than anyone, herself included, ever gave her credit for.  

“Are they okay?” Sloan asked immediately.

“I don’t know,” Charlie said, wearily. “No one can seem to tell me fucking anything.”

“What does he want? What could he possibly want?” Sloan asked. Don caught Charlie’s eye for a moment and didn’t say anything.

Whatever the answer was, whatever it was that Jerry Dantana wanted, it wasn’t good. There was no happy ending here.

There was, as far as Don could tell, no good way to end this.

* * *

 “This is MacKenzie McHale,” Mac’s voice was calm and level when she answered her ringing office phone, and Will had to wonder just how in the fuck she was maintaining her composure. Dantana’s arms were crossed against his chest, his shoulders hunched, the gun hanging down limply from his right hand.

Will knew he had to come up with a plan. They couldn’t be passive about this. Could Will take him down while his attention was diverted? While the gun _wasn’t_ pointed at MacKenzie? He was a tall guy, but Will had a few pounds on him. He just needed to knock the gun away.

“Yes, let me ask,” Mac said, covering the bottom of the phone and turning slightly towards Jerry. “They would like to speak to you. Will you speak to them?”

Will was well-educated in all things MacKenzie McHale, and he knew enough to know that she was covering her fear well, but that she was very, _very_ afraid. Her knuckles were white from her grip on the phone, her mouth turned down slightly at the corners, an almost imperceptible tremor to her hands.

“No, no, I don’t want to talk to them,” Jerry said, shaking his head and uncrossing his arms to run a hand through his hair. Mac relayed that to the person on the other line, and gave a small nod to whatever they were saying.

“They want to know what you want, Jerry,” Mac said gently.

“I just need a minute, okay? I just need a minute,” Jerry snapped, and Will was on edge, ready to jump to his feet if he needed to, when Maggie laid a gentle hand on his arm stopping him. Will glanced over at her, and Maggie shook her head ever so slightly. She was right, of course, reacting to Jerry’s anger with anger was only a surefire way to get the situation to escalate, and quickly. But Will didn’t like how far away from him Mac was right now, how very close Jerry was standing to her instead.

“Okay,” Mac replied. “Okay, that’s fine. They’ll call back, okay? That’s fine.” She hung up the phone and dropped back down to the carpet next to Will, and he wasted no time pulling her closer to him.

They needed a plan. He just wasn’t sure what that plan was yet.

* * *

 It had been in Pakistan, somewhere (Jim couldn’t remember exactly, those places started to all blur a little bit, he remembered it was hot and dusty, but that didn’t exactly narrow it down), when after a few drinks (alcohol was prohibited, but that didn’t seem to stop its presence at most of the bases they had stopped at), Mac convinced one of the marines, Tom (and it wasn’t hard for her to convince _any_ of them to do _anything_ for her. Partly Jim thought they all might slightly smitten with her, and partly because dainty, foul-mouthed MacKenzie gave as good as she got and they respected the shit out of her), to teach her and Jim how to box.

“How to box? When will that skill ever come in handy?” Jim had rolled his eyes, but Mac would not be deterred.

“Come on,” she wheedled. “It’ll be fun. I’ll be Muhammad Ali, and you can be, you know, the guy he beat.”

“Joe Frazier?” Jim supplied, and Mac beamed.

“Yeah, him,” she said. Tom had laughed, pulling her into a crude boxing ring they had made using chairs and boxes as the “ropes” and showed her how to move her feet, how to jab and land an uppercut. She had made a terrible boxer, absolutely _awful_ , and Jim had gotten up after she had decided she was just not cut out to be a boxer, searching instead for the bottle of gin that had been smuggled into the base disguised as mouthwash, grinning as she took a swig and declared it minty fresh.  

Jim, it turned out, was a decent boxer.

“A mighty fine Irish boxer you’d have made,” Mac told him in a passable, fake Irish accent.  Jim had ducked his head and grinned, a blush creeping up his neck.

He hadn’t known MacKenzie that long at that point, but it was that night, sharing the contraband gin and learning how to throw a right hook that Jim fell under the spell of MacKenzie McHale (although he maintained, to this day, adamantly, that he _never_ had a crush on her. But that was a slight lie. He would never admit it, but he did, for a very short amount of time. But that was _it_ ).

It was that night that he decided he would follow MacKenzie wherever she wanted, follow her to Hell and back.

And, Jim thought, his back up against the cool outside wall of Mac’s office, his hand finding Mac’s free hand (the other was resting on Will’s knee, Will’s much larger hand dwarfing hers and holding onto her fingers so tightly that Jim was half afraid he was going to cut off the circulation in Mac’s fingers. Not that she was complaining), this situation was about as hellish as they had experienced. At least the insurgents weren’t aiming directly for _them_. At least there was no personal vendetta. Not like this.

“He has no fucking idea what he’s doing,” Mac muttered under her breath, and Jim gave her hand a squeeze.

“We need to figure out a plan,” Will chimed in, his voice barely above a whisper. A plan, Jim thought. Well, that’d be _great_. Except there was one problem. What the fuck could they possibly do?

Will was terrified, Jim knew that. He was feeling useless and terrified. Jim got that because that was exactly how he felt, and Jim understood the need to feel like some things were still in their control, because so much was incredibly _out_ of their control.

“Don’t everyone shout out ideas at once,” Maggie said and Jim glanced over to see her roll her eyes slightly.

“They’re going to call back again,” Mac pointed out, glancing over where Jerry was resting with his head against the glass door. “They need to know what he _wants_ to know how to negotiate him.”

“We don’t know what he wants,” Will argued. That wasn’t true, Jim thought. It wasn’t that they didn’t know what he wanted, they just didn’t want to give it to him. Or more accurately, give _her_ to him. He wanted MacKenzie.

Jim just didn’t know what he wanted to do with Mac. Rational thinking told him that if Jerry wanted Mac dead he would have shot her the moment that he walked into her office. But while Jerry was many things at the moment, rational was not one of them.

“You know what he wants,” Mac said softly. “He wants me.”

“Well, he’s not getting you,” Will hissed. “Besides, he’s got a problem with all of us.”

“I fired him,” Mac sighed. “I was the one who caught the shot clock error.”

“Yeah? And I was the one who didn’t stick by his story that Stomtonovich said it,” Maggie huffed, her voice heated. “And Will was the one who refused to learn his fucking name for months. Jim was the reason he was here in the _first_ place. How many times was Jerry told that Jim wouldn’t have done this, or done that? Will’s right. He’s got a beef with all of us. If he’s going to blame you for what happened to him, he has to blame all of us. We’re not leaving, Mac. Get that through your thick head. We’re not leaving you. So just forget it.” Mac raised a single eyebrow, and in an even, measured voice she said,

“Get it through my thick head?”

Maggie looked mortified. “I’m sorry Mac, you don’t have a thick head, you…” she stammered.

“Don’t apologize,” Will said, a grin threatening at the corner of his lips. “She _does_ have a thick head.” Mac let go of Jim’s hand to pinch Will hard, and then she gave Maggie a small smile.

“Thanks, Maggie, but if you have the opportunity…”

“We leave together,” Jim interrupted. “We all leave together.” That was the only possibility he would let himself think about. They would all leave. Safe. Together.

  
Will was right. They needed a plan. They needed a really good fucking plan.


	4. But I will hold on as long as you like

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, listen. I'm sorry. And I almost ended this as a cliffhanger, and I didn't. So I should get some credit for that.

Sloan sat on the curb, Don’s hand tucked in hers, waiting for some kind of news.

At this point, she would really take any news. The waiting was driving her up a fucking wall. Charlie had disappeared, off to demand answers from someone, and Sloan didn’t want to be the one to tell him that she wasn’t sure there _were_ answers. The police seemed just as clueless as any of them.

It was not reassuring in the least bit that they hadn’t heard back yet from Dantana as to what he wanted. Sloan had seen enough episodes of _Law and Order_ to know that Dantana should have already given his list of demands. A helicopter, a get-away car, a million dollars in unmarked bills. _That_ was how a hostage situation worked.

“Fuck, he can’t even manage a fucking hostage situation correctly,” Sloan muttered.

There had been still no word on what Dantana wanted, which was bringing ideas into Sloan’s head that she rather not think about.

But, if he had wanted to kill MacKenzie, wouldn’t he have just done it? (But what if he had? What if he was sitting in the office surrounded by the bodies of her friends? Oh _Jesus_. The thought alone made Sloan want to throw up. What if he had shot Mac in front of Will? Will would never recover. There were a million scenarios running through Sloan’s head, and none of them were good. The thought of Will holding Mac’s body, still and bloody, her eyes wide and unseeing, made Sloan shiver. No, no, _no._ She would think positively. They weren’t dead. They _weren’t_.)

“What in the fuck did we do to piss off the Universe so badly that we deserve this?” Sloan spoke up, and Don turned his head to look at her.

“Genoa was pretty fucked up,” he pointed out. “We accused the government of dropping sarin gas.”

“Fair,” Sloan acknowledged. “But we would have _never_ gone after that story if it wasn’t for Jerry Dantana. So where does he _get off_ taking my friends hostage?” Don slipped his arm around her and tugged her close, pressing a kiss on the crown of her head. It was fucked up and unfair, and just, god _damn_ Jerry Dantana.

“I don’t know,” he answered. He didn’t know how Dantana had gotten through security with a gun. He didn’t know why he had been out to lunch with Sloan instead of Mac, as had been the original plan. He didn’t know why these things kept happening to them. They were _good_ people. They were all just doing the best they knew how to do. Don let out a frustrated sigh.

“What if he’s already killed them?” Sloan asked quietly a moment later, giving voice to her fears.

“We would know that,” Don replied, and she thought, _would we_? Don looked less than confident about that answer, and she tipped her head to rest on his shoulder.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she accused.

* * *

Maggie did not regret following Will and Jim into MacKenzie’s office.

She would have rather been, oh, _anywhere_ else at that moment, but she was not sorry that she had refused to leave. She wasn’t afraid for herself. Dantana seemed to have focused his ire on one person, and that was not Maggie. More than anything, he appeared to see Will, Maggie, and Jim as distractions. He’d maybe even let them go if they asked, Maggie was almost sure of it. He was in way over his head, and four against one were odds that he hadn’t seemed to taken into consideration (although it seemed that he hadn’t taken _much_ into consideration, to be honest).

Now, MacKenzie, that was another story. Maggie was fucking shit scared for Mac. And Maggie didn’t need to watch another person die in front of her, violently, senselessly (how long would it take her to crawl back from _that?_ She didn’t even want to think about it. And Will. Fuck. If Dantana shot Mac in front of Will, there’d be no hope for him. He’d _never_ get over it. Never, never, never).

“I think we can take him down,” Will whispered to Jim, and Jim turned his head in surprise.

“Take him down?” Jim repeated.

“We just need to get the gun out of his hand,” Will pointed out. “We get the girls to slide over so that they’re mostly behind the desk in case the gun goes off, and we try to tackle him.”

“ _That’s_ your plan?” Mac hissed. “You’re a fucking _idiot_.”

“Stop talking!” Jerry demanded, swinging around and leveling the gun at Mac, who froze. Will twitched, ready at any moment to spring in front of her, and the tension rose.

“Okay,” Mac swallowed hard, and let go of Will’s hand to put up hers in a gesture of surrender. “We’ll stop talking, okay?”

“I can’t think when you talk,” Jerry said, the gun still pointed at Mac.

“She said okay,” Will told him. “You can put the gun down now.” Shit, Will sounded angry. Maggie could feel it coming off of him in waves. Nothing good could come of Will becoming angry. He was already talking about trying to tackle Dantana. Dantana, who was unhinged and armed.

Mac was right, Will was a fucking idiot. And now he was quickly becoming an enraged, fucking idiot.

Suddenly Maggie understood. It was all about getting MacKenzie out of there. Will wanted Dantana’s attention on him. If that gun was going to go off, Will wanted to be the one in the bullet’s path. He didn’t actually think he and Jim had a chance of tackling Jerry without one of them being shot, but he didn’t _care_. As long as it gave Mac the opportunity to get out of there.

So Mac was still right, he was still an idiot, but he was a brave, selfless idiot.

And he was _insane_ if he thought Mac would agree to that plan.

* * *

Jerry’s hand didn’t waver, and Will, his voice firm, repeated, “You can put the gun down now.”

Will could feel Mac’s hand dig into his thigh, heard her intake of breath.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Jerry warned. “ _I_ have the gun. _I_ get to make the decisions, now. _I_ do.”

“Will,” Mac’s voice was just shy of pleading.

“Then make a fucking decision!” Will exclaimed. “We’ve been sitting here for fucking ever waiting for you to tell us what you want. What. Do. You. Want? They’re going to call back, Jerry. They’re going to want to know why you have us in here. They’re going to want to know what you plan on doing next. _We’d_ fucking like to know that too.”

Will knew that this could backfire. The gun was still trained on Mac. This could all go very wrong, but he was _tired_ of sitting back, whispering amongst themselves, wondering what in the hell Jerry was going to do next. (And yeah, maybe if he got Jerry mad enough the gun would swing from Mac to him, and that would be an improvement. Maybe Jerry would even let Mac leave, although Will knew that suggestion wouldn’t exactly go over well with his fiancee).

“I didn’t want all of you,” Jerry said, gesturing to Jim and Maggie. “I just wanted _her_.”

“Well, too bad, you’ve got all of us now,” Will replied dryly. “So what the fuck are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” Jerry admitted, rubbing his face with his free hand. “I just wanted her to understand.”

“Understand what?” Will pressed.

“Will,” Mac tried again.

“Understand fucking _what_ , Jerry?” Will asked again.

“It _happened_ ,” Jerry cried out.

“And what is she supposed to do with that information? What do you want her to do?” Will yelled.

“Will,” it was Jim’s warning voice now. Mac’s fingers were still clenching his leg, he’d probably have bruises, and he could see out of the corner of his eye the look on her face was a mixture of fear and irritation (at him, at Jerry, he wasn’t sure. Probably both). Will knew it the moment Jim spoke that he had gone too far. He had meant to push Jerry into some sort of action, but he had pushed too hard.

Well, fuck.

“Stand up,” Jerry demanded, pointing the gun at Will instead. “ _Stand up_. I didn’t want to do this. If you would have just believed me. You could have stood by the story, stood by me.” The atmosphere in the room had shifted, Will could feel it. Dantana had lost the crazed look in his eyes. He was staring at Will with a clear, determined look on his face.

Jerry had made up his mind. There needed to be a price paid for their betrayal. Will knew it, and judging by the way that Mac had begun trembling beside him, she knew it too.

So be it, Will thought. But it would be him. It wouldn’t be MacKenzie. He would make sure of it.

“That was me,” Will insisted. “I pulled the story. I retracted it. Apologized for it. That was me.”

“Stand up,” Jerry repeated.

“Please,” Mac’s voice broke. Will wasn’t sure who she was talking to, and he wouldn’t let himself look at her face.

Jerry wouldn’t kill them all. He was too much of a coward for that. He wasn’t a ruthless killer. If Will was shot, Jerry would drop the gun. Will was counting on it. He’d drop the gun, and Jim would get the girls out of there. But _fuck_ , he didn’t want to die. Not in front of MacKenzie. Maybe he could convince Jerry to take him out into the newsroom if he was going to shoot him. Mac didn’t need to see that. Neither did Maggie, for that matter (and God, _Maggie_. He was going to be another thing that happened to her, and guilt washed over him. She had been doing so much better lately too, and just, shit).

The kicker was that Will had never been happier. He was going to be _married_ to _Mac_. The lawsuit had been dropped, he was doing a show that he was proud of, and he had a feeling of contentedness that he had never had before. It overwhelmed him sometimes in the best possible way. He went home every night with Mac, and woke up to her stretched out beside him in bed, a lazy smile on her face.

His life was so _good_ , and it had taken so _long_ , and it just wasn’t fucking fair.

But if the decision was between him dying or Mac? That was a no brainer.

Will climbed on shaky legs, Mac scrambling to her feet beside him.

“Mac, sit back down,” he instructed gently. He still wouldn’t let himself look at her. Instead he looked at Maggie, her eyes wide and her lip trembling. “It’ll be okay.”

“No,” she replied, a sound that was more liquid than solid. “It’s me you want, Jerry. Remember? It’s me.”

“Mac,” Will breathed out. “Please, honey, please sit down. Jim?” And Jim, loyal above all to Mac, stood and pulled Mac to him, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

“No!” Mac yelled, fighting against Jim. “Jerry, don’t do this, okay? Don’t do this. Please, please, Jerry, please.”

“You could have just _believed_ me,” Jerry repeated, and Will closed his eyes.

“I love you, MacKenzie,” he finally opened his eyes and turned to look at her stricken face.

“Will,” she sobbed. “Oh God, Will.”

“It’ll be okay,” he repeated.

"Jerry, you’re right, you’re right, we should have believed you! I’m sorry! I’ll resign! I’ll go on television and tell everyone that you were right, and that Genoa happened. I’ll stand by the story. Whatever you want, Jerry, you don’t have to do this, please don’t do this,” Mac was borderline hysterical, still struggling against Jim. Maggie had jumped to her feet, her hand reaching for Will’s.

“Don’t do this, Jerry,” Maggie chimed in. “I wasn’t in the room, I don’t know what Stomtonovich said, but I _believe_ you. We all do.”

“It _happened_ ,” Jerry said brokenly.

“Okay,” Maggie said calmly, simply, and she gave Will’s hand a squeeze and he was so goddamn proud of her in that moment. Will’s heart was thudding painfully in his chest, the sound of Mac’s ragged sobs ringing in his ears.

“It happened,” Jerry repeated, and the arm holding the gun dropped down to his side.

“We’ll tell everyone,” Jim’s voice shook. “We believe you.”

And Jerry finally let go of the gun, letting it fall out of his fingers and clattering onto the carpet. Will was the closest, and with trembling hands, he reached down to pick it up, as Jerry sunk to the floor, his head in his hands.


	5. Just promise we'll be all right

It took a minute for MacKenzie to register that Jerry had dropped the gun, that Will was now holding it in his shaking hands, that they were both _alive._

She stopped struggling against Jim ( _traitor_ , she thought, although she knew that he was only following Will’s wishes, trying to keep her safe at all costs. The cost had almost been Will, and oh God, _oh God_ , that was far too high of a price to pay), letting her limbs go slack and trying to calm herself down. She found that she couldn’t stop crying, the tears streaming down her face and her breath coming in ragged bursts.

Will handed the gun off to Maggie, who glanced down at it in disgust, and opened his arms. Mac launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his sweater. Jerry was still huddled on the floor, but Mac’s world had narrowed, and she couldn’t bring herself to think about anything but Will and how he was still here, whole and unharmed. Will’s hand came up to cradle the back of her head, and she sobbed into his chest.

“I’m okay,” he murmured into her hair, she _knew_ that, but she had been so fucking afraid, so certain that he was going to die, in front of her, _for_ her, she couldn’t shake the feeling of fear and dread that had settled into her bones just yet.

“I love you,” her words were muffled, but she had just realized, to her horror, that she hadn’t said it back to him, and it seemed important that he knew. “Jesus, Will, I love you so much.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Will soothed. “I know.”

The phone rang and Mac startled. She made no move away from Will, so it was Maggie who reached over to answer it.

“We’re okay,” Maggie reported. “He’s surrendered the gun. Yes, okay.” Mac moved back from Will, slightly, unable to completely let go of him. Jim had the gun now; it dangled harmlessly at his side. Jerry hadn’t moved since he had dropped to the carpet, his face buried in his hands.

“You okay?” Jim asked Will, who nodded and tightened his grip on her.

“They told us to stay put, they’re sending officers in,” Maggie said as she hung up the phone and ran a shaky hand through her hair.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here,” Will replied.

 _Truer words_ , Mac thought, _were never spoken_.

* * *

“Mr. Skinner?” The sound of his name broke Charlie out of his thoughts (all of which were unpleasant. The never ending list of horrifying ways this could end), and he turned to see a young officer hurrying over to where Charlie was standing with Leona.

“Yes?”

“It’s over,” the officer reported with a small smile. Leona’s hand darted out and gripped Charlie’s arm.

“It’s over?” Leona repeated. “What in the fuck does that mean?”

“Dantana surrendered the gun, sir,” the officer’s smile widened. Charlie felt shaky with relief, and only Leona’s firm hold kept him standing.

“Oh thank God,” Leona breathed out, closing her eyes.

“Everyone’s okay?” Charlie clarified.

“It appears that everyone is unharmed,” the officer confirmed. “We’re sending a team in now to bring them out.” Charlie extended a hand for the officer to shake.

“Thank you,” he said, and the officer nodded, and as soon as he had turned to leave, Charlie found himself with an armful of Leona Lansing. Sloan, sensing something had happened, rushed over to where Charlie and Leona stood, Don right on her heels.

“What happened? Are they okay? What’s happened?” Sloan asked frantically.

“They’re okay,” Charlie told her. “Dantana dropped the gun. They’re all okay.” Sloan brought a shaky hand to her mouth, stifling a choked sob as Don brought his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his side to press a kiss to her temple.

“I told you everything would work out,” Leona poked Charlie in the side, her eyes glistening. “If you would just learn to _listen_ to me.”

“Oh shut up,” Charlie requested with a small grin, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“They’re all right,” Leona told him, sobering slightly.

“Yeah,” Charlie replied, although he wouldn’t believe it until he could see for himself.

He wasn’t sure what had gone on in that office, and he wasn’t sure if he _wanted_ to know. All he cared about was that they were walking out of the office and not being carried out on a stretcher, or God forbid, in a body bag.

No, he shook the thought out of his head. They were okay. They were on their way out. They were okay. He just needed to keep repeating it until it finally sunk in.

* * *

Will refused to let go of MacKenzie as the police lead them out of the office.

He had thought he was going to die. He had honestly thought he was going to die. And worse, _Mac_ had thought he was going to die too. He wouldn’t any time soon forget the look on her face. The horror and fear as she fought against Jim’s strong hold (and there was yet another thing that Will owed Jim. Another thing he would never be able to repay him for). He didn’t ever want to see that kind of devastation on her face again.

In the elevator, Mac pressed herself into his side, and he kept a steady arm around her. He wasn’t sure if his tight grip on her was for her sake or his own, but he wasn’t anywhere near ready to let go of her yet.

Will glanced over at Jim and Maggie, and noticed that Jim also had a tight hold on Maggie’s hand. She looked surprisingly calm, all things considered, and he remembered how steady her voice had been, how gentle, as she tried to reassure Jerry that they believed Genoa. Believed _him_.

“We’re going to need your statements,” the officer spoke up and Will nodded, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to put into words what had happened in Mac’s office. He had thought he was going to die (but better him than Mac. What would he have done if the situation had been reversed? There would be no way that Jim would have been able to hold him back. Not if the gun had been pointed at MacKenzie. Not if Will thought, seriously thought, she was going to die. Jim was a strong kid, but Will was stronger). The last thing that Will wanted to do was relive what had just happened. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to crawl into bed, pull Mac with him, and not leave for a very long time.

Charlie and Leona were standing in the lobby with some officers when the elevator doors slid open, and Mac stepped from under Will’s arm into Charlie’s.

“You okay, kid?” He asked, catching Will’s eye over her head. The question was to both of them, but Will didn’t quite have an answer to that question yet. Was he okay? Well, he didn’t have a bullet in his fucking head, so that was something. He wasn’t sure if okay was the word he would use though.

“Fuck,” Mac breathed. “Yes? No? We’re alive, right?”

“Right,” Will said as Sloan came barreling towards him and threw her arms around him.

“I was so fucking _scared_ for you guys,” she exclaimed. “Are you okay?”

“We’re okay,” Will confirmed. Maybe if he kept repeating it, it would be true. Maybe if he kept saying it, he could feel less like he was going to be sick. If he kept repeating it maybe he could get the image of Mac’s horrified face out of his head. Maybe if he said it enough Mac would also start to believe it too.

* * *

She couldn’t stop trembling.

It had been hours now, hours since Jerry dropped the gun, and the police took their statements and Charlie told the four of them to take the rest of the week off and decompress. It had been _hours_ and MacKenzie just couldn’t stop shaking.

She and Will had gone back to his apartment, and she had changed into warm clothes, curled up under a blanket, but she still couldn’t stop shivering.

Will had poured them each a drink and sat down on the couch next to her, and she wasted no time at all climbing into his lap and burying her face in his chest. His hand came down to rest on her head and suddenly she was exhausted.

“You okay?” He murmured, dropping a kiss into her hair.

“I thought he was going to _kill_ you,” she exhaled a long, shaky breath. “I’ve never been so terrified in my life, Will.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he soothed.

“And I was angry at _you_ ,” she continued. “For goading him, for putting yourself in danger. He was there for me, Will, you should have...you shouldn’t have…” Mac shook her head.

“I will not apologize for making him angry at me,” Will’s voice was heated, but his fingers carding through her hair were still gentle. “Not when it meant that the gun was turned on me and not you.”

“You’re an idiot,” Mac said, but she tilted her head up and pressed a searing kiss to his mouth.

“It wasn’t a decision that I had to think hard about,” he told her. “I would make that choice again and again and again if I had to.” He reached up and brushed her hair off of her face, his gaze falling to her bruised and swollen lip. “I understand though, about being scared. I was scared shitless when you stepped out of your office with him.” She didn't want to think about that. She didn't want to think about any of what had happened earlier in the day. She didn't want to think about the look in Jerry Dantana's eyes when he held the gun so steady, pointing at her, at Will. 

And even still, there was a part of her that still pitied Jerry Dantana. She hated him and felt sorry for him all at once, and it made her dizzy.

“I feel slightly sorry for him,” she admitted after a beat of silence. “He’s lost _everything_.”

“Through no one’s fault but his own,” Will pointed out. “I can’t feel sorry for him. Not when he  held a gun to your head. Not when I thought for sure one of us was leaving there in a body bag.”

For a few terrifying moments, Mac had to consider the possibility of the rest of her life without Will (not that she didn’t have practice considering a lonely life without Will by her side, but at least then she knew that he was still walking the earth. Thousands of miles away, when she would become so homesick and lonely that she couldn’t think straight, she would stream News Night to her laptop and close her eyes and just listen to the sound of his voice. When she was in the hospital, recovering from the knife wound, Jim would pull up YouTube videos of Will’s broadcasts and play them endlessly for her. If Jerry Dantana had pulled that trigger, taken Will from her, she wouldn’t know how to keep going. She didn’t know how to live in a world where Will wasn’t).

How would she have gotten out of bed in the morning? How would she have kept from drowning in her own pain and grief? (But she didn’t have to learn how, she _didn’t_. He was still here. Her head was on his chest and she could still hear his heartbeat under her ear, gloriously solid and steady.)

But they were okay. Improbably, unbelievably okay.  

“Still,” she murmured, but let the conversation drop, let herself inch impossibly closer to him, let herself finally let out a shaky sigh and close her eyes. She was so tired suddenly, and she felt Will drop another kiss to the crown of her head, and felt the rumble of his chest as he spoke, his voice soft and soothing,

“Sleep sweetheart, I’m here, I’ve got you.”

  
  
  



End file.
